Elder Signs
by Rahar Moonfire
Summary: Sometimes the brighter the world, the darker its shadows. Demons aren't the darkest things out there. In the dimension from "The World Inverted," a cult tries to summon an Eldritch Abomination. But to do so, they need the blood of a Shadowhunter. All Alec wants is to go home to his family and his very own, very ticked off High Warlock of Brooklyn who wants his boyfriend back!
**A/N:** Yet again, I'm filling one of my own prompt from the Shadowhunter free-for-all kinkmeme.

 **Chapter summary:** In which summoning is agony.

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 **Elder Signs**

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 **1: Living Nightmare**

It started late that night. Nothing serious, just a slight tingling in the limbs. It got worse as the night went on. He tossed and turned finding it increasingly difficult to stay still and just sleep. He chalked it up to too much alcohol and resolved never to drink again.

An hour later he gave up fighting it and got up. He pocketed his stele and made his way to the training arena to practice his archery. He hooked his seraph blade to his side too just in case archery didn't cut it. Hopefully, the stimulation would help ease his incessant desire to move. His quiver was a comforting weight against his side as he shrugged it further up on his shoulder. It took a few tries to string his bow due to the increasing twinges of pain.

He forced himself to finish his task before staring at his fingertip in confusion. There were no cuts, no bruises, no indications as to why he felt this pain. He began to consider seeking medical attention when suddenly his entire burned. His eyes grew round and he doubled over, collapsing to the ground as the sensation of being burnt alive consumed him.

Pinpricks of fire blazed through his body, singing his nerves and seizing his chest. He gasped in agony, arching his back off the bed as his muscles tensed, dying to move but unable to. He clamped his jaw and grimaced from the pain. A moan ripped from his raw throat quickly becoming an anguished scream.

His eyes squeezed shut, trying to blot out the torture as his flaming knives drove into his flesh, dragging their red hot blades along his nerves. It felt like something or someone was literally ripping him out of his skin inch by miserable inch.

Banging joined the ringing in his ears. Blazing light glowed red behind the darkness of his eyelids. He screamed again as razor sharp hooks tore at him, dragging him up. Was it up? He didn't care. He couldn't care. He couldn't think. Make it stop. Please. Make it stop! _Make it stop!_ Make it **STOP**!

Something that may have been soft and reassuring at one time brushed his face leaving scorching torment behind tearing another scream from him. He was on fire. The hooks yanked harder and his screams hiked up in pitch. Too much. By the Angel above, _make it stop!_

Please!

Magnus!

The pain reached a screeching crescendo and his eyes burst open only to be blinded by blazing white light. The hooks ripped and this time he moved with them. Up into the light. But up was down and he thudded bodily on a cold, hard floor. The pain eased sharply leaving him shuddering and gasping breathless whimpers.

His overstimulated nerves begged for oblivion. The cold floor against his back felt simultaneously good and horrible against his pain burned skin. He couldn't see. The light was gone leaving a soft, golden halo around the darkness filling his vision. He couldn't make out anything other than the fuzzy glow and the darkness. It was too bright.

He closed his eyes and moaned, his hand spasmodically gripping his bow. It took all of his strength to roll onto his side. He opened his eyes again only to slam them shut against the golden glow. It was closer now, more intense and directly in his line of sight instead of circling his peripheries. Voices mumbled on the edge of his ringing ears.

He coughed and curled in on himself, a hand reaching down to clutch his hip where his _parabatai_ rune burned. What was happening? Jace. Was Jace okay? He couldn't think. He coughed, spitting up a thick metallic substance he vaguely recognized as blood. He was so confused and scared.

He had to get out.

He flailed out desperately with and arm, his hand contacting something he couldn't see. It was solid but there was some give to it. Maybe if he pushed hard enough he could get out of this hellish nightmare. Maybe he could wake up.

He had to get out.

He pressed with all his strength which, given his current state, was hardly more than a kitten's paw. His quiver jutted uncomfortably into his side, hurting his overly sensitive body.

He had to get out.

He reached down to his side and unhooked his seraph blade. The cool, blue-white radiance of the blade calmed his terrified soul and cleared his pain hazed mind enough to focus on one thought.

Get out.

He slashed downward, the tinkling sound of the blade striking the floor reverberating through his still ringing ears causing him to wince. The rush of air from the gleaming sword snuffed the golden lights nearest his face. He shuddered as he pulled himself towards the hole of darkness in the ring of gold.

The voices around him, just on the edge of his hearing, increased in urgency and pitch. Something touched his shoulder and he lashed out, swinging the blade blindly at whatever touched him. Something warm and liquid fell on him when he felt his seraph blade hit resistance.

Get out.

This place.

He had to get out.

This place was wrong.

It twisted his insides in ways that should be impossible. His _parabatai_ rune burned.

Jace.

"Jace," he gasped, gripping his aching side with clawed hands. He could barely move. He was so tired.

He had to get out.

Magnus.

He had to find Magnus. He had to get back to him.

Magnus.

Jace.

Isabelle.

Max.

Even Clary.

He had to get out. He had to get _up_.

He took a deep breath and pushed himself up from the ground with a pained cry. He stumbled the first few steps thudding his shoulder against something upright. It was agony. Utter agony.

He blinked blindly. Blurred shapes and darkness filled his vision. He had to get out. He lashed out with his seraph blade, using its glow to guide him. He somehow staggered to a solid frame with a bar at waist level. The bar gave when he leaned against it, but it brought with it a new screeching sound that yanked another pain cry from him.

He fell when the solid frame he leaned against gave way dropping him onto what felt like uneven rocks and asphalt. He opened his eyes and immediately slammed them shut when blazing light burned his vision. Tears streamed down his face and a pained sob wrenched his gut.

Every part of him hurt.

He had to get out.

The ringing in his ears eased to a barely manageable level. Voices behind him became clearer although the exact words were still lost to him. They couldn't get him he had to get out.

He pushed himself up and tried running, slamming against a wall ahead of him. He realized his hands were still gripping his bow and seraph blade. He couldn't risk retracting his seraph blade. He couldn't trust himself with a bow with his senses as mixed up as they were. He shoved his bow over his shoulder and pulled out his stele, swiping it over his invisibility rune.

Blinking blindly, forcing his eyes to at least accept the overwhelming light, he staggered away feeling his way along the rough wall. He had to get away.

He had to get back to Jace.

He had to get back to Magnus.

He had a date tonight.

He couldn't leave Magnus.

He had to get out.

He had to get back to Magnus.

He couldn't miss his date.

He had to hear Magnus call his name again. He had to get back home.


End file.
